Last Christmas, Last Kiss
by Mlle. Phoenix Fox
Summary: What if the Doctor had one last dream before he and Clara had to wake up? Whoffle with One sided Whofladdi if you squint. Now a two shot with spoilers for series nine!
1. Chapter 1

Last Christmas, Last Kiss

What if the Doctor had one last dream before he and Clara had to wake up?

**_A/N An AU within canon, I don't own anything. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fan fiction. And look! The Twelfth Doctor! For while he doesn't flirt with Clara, he has given so many clues about how he used to feel about her. For its my theory that while the Doctor's feelings about people change upon regeneration, he remembers how he felt. Enjoy._**

* * *

"Wakey wakey!" Santa exclaimed, a manic look to his twinkling old eyes.

"Wait...how much time do we got? If you're connected to my subconscious then you must know." The Doctor asked standing to his feet. Santa smiled in understanding.

"Technically. Six minutes and forty three seconds. Just enough time for one Last Christmas." He said.

"Okay. Bit lost here." Clara commented.

"I'll give you some privacy." Santa said leaving the room. The Doctor stood there, taking deep breaths.

"Soo...are we going to open more crackers then?" Clara asked to the Doctor's back.

"Actually..." The Doctor began. But Clara's eyes widened. His voice wasn't Scottish anymore. In fact, he sounded like he did when...

The Doctor turned. Clara gasped.

"Chin..." Clara whispered seeing the Eleventh face of the Doctor once more. With youthful square features, rocket fin ears, non existent sensitive eyebrows, deep set green eyes, floppy brown hair and that beautiful, wonderful magnificent oversized chin. His clothes had changed too. But they weren't the purple professor look she had known during their too brief time together. The brown tweed jacket with jeans were more...hipster professor. It had all happened in an instant.

"What are you doing?" Clara asked.

"Something I wanted to do for a thousand years." The Doctor said crossing the room and kneeling before her. To her shock he pulled her close by the neck and kissed her deeply. At first, she let loose a muffled squeak of surprise. Then she moaned as he deepened the kiss.

Finally, he released her, pressing his forehead against his,

"It wasn't impossible Clara. It wasn't impossible." He whispered desperately.

"Why didn't you ever...?" Clara trailed off.

"Because I'm a coward. And when I regenerated...I thought...I hoped it would just be my face that changed. I knew you wouldn't care. But I didn't think the way I felt towards you would change. I still loved you, but I couldn't see myself making love to you. Not like I could when I looked like this. So I pushed you away. I insulted you to distance myself. To make you fall out of love with me so we could still be mates." He said.

"You love me?" She asked in awe.

"But I'm a selfish old man Clara. And since this is my dream too, I want one last Christmas. One last Christmas where I can do this." The Doctor explained. Then he kissed her again. Clara kissed him back, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

"Think we have time to take this to the bedroom?" Clara asked between kisses. She let loose a giggle when she was suddenly lifted up into his arms.

"It's our dream. And remember hours here in the dream are actually mere minutes." He purred, kissing her on the way to the bedroom.

"So does that mean we're having a quickie that lasts all night long?" Clara asked as he laid her down on the bed.

To her surprise again, he didn't blush and sputter. He chuckled, stretching out the length of her,

"Let's find out."

* * *

Five minutes or six hours later, Clara had finally fallen asleep, contentment on her face. Their clothes were strewn about the bedroom. Somehow his third boot had gotten hooked on the ceiling fan. And Clara was wearing his red bow tie like a headband. Nothing but a sheet covering his hip, the Doctor took a moment to commit every detail to memory. From the way her brown locks fanned out on the pillow , to how her little but shapely leg had hooked his, to the drool escaping the corner of her mouth as she snored lightly.

"You know she can't remember this. It'd be cruel." Santa spoke up, appearing suddenly in the corner.

"I know." The Doctor said, swallowing back the lump in his throat as he stroked her cheek with his fingertips.

"So why do it at all?" Santa asked curiously.

"So that I can stop asking 'what if'? What if I had figured out a way to beat the Silence without having to regenerate? What if I had told Clara how I felt about her? What if I had kissed her? Made love to her? Now I know. Even if Clara never can." The Doctor said.

"Why not? After all you said she didn't care about the face." Santa asked.

"But my new face doesn't smile when she walks into the room. Doesn't hug her as if it might be the last. He doesn't even hold her hand. And he never will. She deserves more than that. And since being the Doctor means never being cruel...I have no choice. This dream has to end." The Doctor said putting his fingers over her temples.

"Then it's time to wake up Doctor. It's Christmas Day." Santa said gently as the crimes of a nearby fictional church rang the hour.

"One last kiss..." The Doctor sighed pulling Clara in to touch her lips to his, their world going white.

* * *

"So...New Years in New New York in the year five million twenty five. Not bad Doctor." Clara said raising her glass of champagne to her Doctor with the Scottish accent and black suit. He nodded, his blue eyes taking in her petite form clad in a low back silver gown.

Catching his eye, Clara popped a grape in her mouth and asked confused,

"What?"

Flashes of two naked figures tangled in sheets, panting and moaning in pleasure filled his head. His mouth said,

"You've had a bit of a wash."

"Thanks for noticing. Happy New Years to you too." Clara sighed, turning back to watch the fireworks over the city skyline. The Doctor looked down at her free hand. His fingers twitched close to brushing hers, but then he pulled away, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Happy New Year." The Doctor sighed, watching the fireworks.

"You know at Christmas, when our brains were almost eaten by the dream crabs, I remembered everything about the dream. All but this last bit. Last bit is fuzzy. Like...I should remember but I can't. Do you remember?" Clara asked.

Images of her skin beneath his fingers, her nails raking across his bare back, her lips parted as she cried out his name.

"Always." The Doctor told her softly.


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N: Now a two shot, this takes after 'Hell Bent'. For Series Nine proved to me that the Doctor and Clara had an epic love story that will never be told. Spoilers! Also, I'm working on a Christmas sequel for my story 'Eureka Con'. I've got the ending and I got the beginning, I just need the middle. Stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy this. (And check out the little A/N at the end)**_

_**flames and kisses, **_

_**Mlle. **_

* * *

"This is idiotic." her companion told her.

Clara rolled her eyes,

"Well I see that Trenzalore's Truth Field is kicking in."

"Truth field or no, " the former Viking girl began, "I learned a long time ago that the truth saves a lot of time. Crossing the Doctor's time stream like this is dangerous."

"Me, I've run from my fate for so long. I said goodbye to my Mum. My Dad. My Gran. Now I have to see him again. For one last Christmas. My Doctor with the Chin." Clara said, looking down at the little snowbound village.

"I would have thought seeing Danny Pink would have left you satisfied. Somehow you even got pregnant, had his son, raised him and gave him his name, and then watched him have your grandchildren and great, great grandchildren." Me said.

"You're just upset Orson broke up with you." Clara smirked at the other petite brunette.

"I got scared about how I felt about him." Me said. Then she stopped, listening to herself. She blushed,

"Oh...yeah...truth field."

"Anyway. Besides Danny, Chin Boy is my last loose end. And by God I swear I'm going to bonk his twenty seven brains out so that it will be the last thing I do."

This time it was Clara's turn to blush and Me's turn to smirk.

"Truth field. Right..."

"And what about your Scottish Doctor? What are you going to do about him? When he remembers this little encounter?" Me asked.

"I've been thinking about that. What would make the Doctor try to hold on to me so bad? He's had dozens of companions over the years. One he even married. What made me so special he would spend 4.5 billion years trying to get me back? Was it because of millions of echoes that lived and died for him? Or maybe for one last Christmas where I wouldn't take no for an answer? I have to know." Clara said.

Me sighed, resigned,

"Just be careful."

Clara nodded. They had developed a warm friendship over the years. A friendship that even brought back Me's humanity. And in all those years Clara realized something. Me was never the Hybrid. And the Doctor was never the Hybrid. She had met his mother. She knew the truth about his heritage. Maybe she and the Doctor together were the Hybrid, a creature both human and Timelord. It would explain why Missy was so dead set on getting them together. But now that they were apart, Clara knew she had become the Hybrid. Part Human, Part Doctor. And she would carry those memories in her heart and all the ones she had made over the years when she finally returned to Gallifrey to face the Raven.

But for now, she had a Time Lord to bonk.

She zipped up her parka and began her trek down the hill, leaving their diner TARDIS behind her. It looked like it was actually Christmastime in the town of Christmas. Bright lights and decorations covered the buildings. She smiled at a few people walking about the town. She headed straight for the old clocktower. She walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

"Okay! I'm coming! Ow! Hang on...I really wish you had hands Handles...Coming!" called a voice that she hadn't heard in so long, her breath caught. Tears came to her eyes when the doors opened and her tall, handsome young Doctor with the floppy brown hair, magnificent chin and deep set green eyes said,

"Okay what is it this time? Daleks? Cybermen? Clara...Clara?!"

She laughed at his double take.

"Hullo you Clever Boy. Remember me?" she asked.

"Clara!" he cried pulling her in for a tight hug. She inhaled his scent. No matter the regeneration, he smelled the same. A sort of combination of engine oil, vanilla and stardust.

He pulled back suddenly, eyes wide with fear for her safety,

"How are you here? I sent you away to stay safe! To protect you! Where's the TARDIS?" he asked.

"Your TARDIS is far away I'm afraid. And I can't tell you how I'm here. I'm just here for one night. I promise." Clara said, straightening his bowtie.

"One night? Oh...I see. You're from my future aren't you?" the Doctor asked.

"How'd you know?" she asked.

"You're eyes." he said, stroking her cheek. "Your eyes are older than mine now."

"Bit cold out isn't it?" Clara replied. He got the hint and smiled, stepping aside to let her in. She brushed past him, taking in his cluttered workshop full of towns, tools, contraptions and chalkboards. She wondered if that's why his next incarnation had them all over the TARDIS. He just got used to thinking that way. She saw the crack in time her younger self would talk into saving the Doctor with. She saw the rocking chair his older self would sit with her head in his lap. And by the warm glow of a fireplace was a meager cot. Rather similar to the one he had as a boy that slept in a certain barn on Gallifrey, afraid of the dark.

Her gaze was drawn to one wall where about half a dozen child drawings were put in a place of honor above his cot. But if she still had a heartbeat, she was sure it would skip a beat. For mounted on the wall next to his pillow, was a simple charcoal sketch of her.

"It's so your smile is the last thing I see at night." the Doctor admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

"But...you don't sleep at night?" Clara asked confused.

"There's not much to do at night but sleep. I've been here three months and I sort of realized that I've run out of things to do. So I sleep." he shrugged.

Clara saw this as her in. She nodded and sat on his cot, giving it an experimental bounce.

"Do you do anything else in this bed?" she asked.

"Like what?" he blinked.

"Think of me." she said, leaning back.

"Always." he said fondly.

"What do you think about me?" she asked.

"Kissing you." he blurted out. Then he flushed red and slapped a hand over his mouth. Clara smirked wider.

"Really?" she asked.

"That is...I think about how your Victorian echo kissed me...and I wonder if your kiss would be the same." he said. He blushed redder and turned from her, muttering under his breath,

"Stupid bloody truth field..."

Clara stood and sauntered over to him. She stood before him, playing with the chain of his fob watch. She gazed up at him, noticing how his eyes were locked on her dark eyes,

"Would you like to find out?"

"Yes..." he whispered.

But before she could stand on her tiptoes to do so, he turned away from her.

"We can't Clara." he said.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Clara how long has it been since you've seen me?" he asked turning to look at her.

"Too long." Clara admitted.

"Did my future self give any hint that he had wanted this?" he asked.

"More than a hint." she said, thinking of the four and a half billion years of torture her Doctor endured. For her.

"Well...so long as we're here..." he said. Then he crossed the room and kissed her. She let loose a muffled squeak of surprise. Then she moaned as he deepened the kiss. She could feel his arms frail just a bit. Before they settled around her waist. One hand then snaked up to rake through her hair. He only broke the kiss when he wondered why she didn't feel the need for air.

"Clara? Why don't you have a pulse?" he asked brushing her hair over her shoulder. Panicking, she pushed him back on his cot and straddled him.

* * *

"I can't remember her kiss. How she tasted. How she smelled. How she sounded when she cried out my name. All I know is we made love. And the next morning she was gone before I woke. She scrawled on the picture of herself,

'Run you Clever Boy and be a Doctor.'

And I know we made love in our dreams. When the dream crabs attacked." the Doctor told the waitress listening to his tale. She gave a small gasp of surprise. But he dismissed it. He went on,

"For a thousand years I asked myself 'what if?' What if I had figured out a way to beat the Silence without having to regenerate? What if I had told Clara how I felt about her? What if I had kissed her? Made love to her? Again...Now I know. I thought I had erased her memory of our mental...um..."

"Bonking?" the waitress offered.

"Don't be naughty." the Doctor scolded her.

"Too late." the waitress said with a smirk and a waggle of her eyebrows. The Doctor tried to hide his blush by strumming a few notes of his sad song on his electric guitar. It was Christmastime. He had just said goodbye to the other love of his lives, River. And this tiny little diner reminded him of the one in Nevada that he had visited with Amy and Rory. Come to think of it...hadn't he been at another diner like this one?

"But...what if she remembered? What if that's why she came that night? So that it would be her last Christmas? Her last kiss? I know that's what I would do." he said.

"Apparently you did." she pointed out.

"Right." he sighed.

"I think she came for a more simple reason. Not just to answer 'what if?'" the waitress said.

"What do you think?" the Doctor asked.

"I think she wanted her last memories of you to be sweet. Of how you held her. Made love to her. So that she could be brave. Knowing that they're were no 'what if's' left between you. So that when she faced the Raven, she could do so with a full heart and no regrets." the waitress said.

"Do you think she knows I love her?" he asked.

"Always." she said with a smile. A smile he furrowed his brows over. It reminded him of someone. Someone whose smile was often sad. It was very confusing.

"Anyway I need to get going. Places to go. People to save. Thanks for listening." the Doctor said making his leave. He gave a small wave on his way out. Not noticing the waitress watched him go. Remembering two naked figures under a thin blanket. Her nails raking his back. His name on her lips as he ravished her. Clara opened the door to the control room where Me was waiting.

Tears in her eyes, but her still heart full of love and no regret, Clara looked over her shoulder back at him and whispered,

"Always..."

* * *

**_A/N: So I really like how they handled Clara leaving. It was sad and beautiful and yet worthy of the character. And the bit about her going back to Danny was just me trying to resolve the tiny plot hole Moffett left after Danny died. I mean if he died, how did Orson Pink look like him? Why did he mention having a great grandmother that was a time traveler? As for my plot hole for how Clara could get pregnant when she doesn't have a pulse, I'm just going to chalk it up to her being now and for always, 'the Impossible Girl'. Happy Holidays!_**


End file.
